At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

Holiday cheer and laughter, Multicolored lights blink faster, Music of love and good will, Grace the air like snowflakes. Tis the season to be compassionate…

On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,